#Asks are always open

[ozarkthedog]

I had a thought. During the 'heavenly bound' the last of us, reader sees Joel's bedroom door open a little and the light on. She goes to see what he's doing and he's jerking off. So she stands in the doorway and secretly watches him while playing with herself. And then he sees her. What happens next?

18+ mdni

Joel would certainly be embarrassed at first but he'd then shove his shame to the back of his mind when he notices your wide doe eyes and slack jawed expression as you stand in his door way. he'd wave you over with two fingers while keeping his left hand tightly fisted around his thick base. "c'mere."

you stand in awe at the side of his bed as he starts thrusting his hips into his hand. his cock gets even harder under your innocent stare, precum dribbles from his crown and trickles down his length leaving a shiny, sinful path in its wake.

"ever taste cock, sweet girl?"

you dumbly shake your head from side to side, a barely there squeak slipping from your parted lips.

a devilish smirk tugs at joel's lips. "go on, give 'em a kiss."

😉😉😉

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

I know you wrote for Kappa/Euro. Hear me out.. could you write for Euro/Dead from lords of chaos? No one writes for jack kilmer and it drives me insane‼️😭

Pure Fucking Armaggedon

Summary: In the midst of a heavy night of partying with the Black Circle, you crave your boyfriend's attention but just like so often lately, he's very much not interested, leading you to meet your needs somewhere else…

Pairing: Dead x fem!Reader x Euronymous

Word Count: ~3.7k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Talk About Depression/Mental Illness, Talk About Self-Harm, Very Angsty, Hurt/Comfort...ish, Alcohol, Smoking, Cheating…But With A Twist, Fingering, Unprotected P In V, Creampie, Pet Names

A/N: Hi, anonnie! Thank you very much for this ask <3 Before everybody jumps into my inbox about Jack Kilmer: Please don’t, okay? He’s not tickling my brain like Rory does and I’d hate to let y’all down by having requests sitting in my inbox collecting dust 🖤 However, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a lot of fun writing this chaos!

Massive thanks to @spookyorchid for endlessly entertaining my rambles and inspiring me!

Disclaimer: This is solely based on the characters depicted in Lords Of Chaos!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

Could you stomach it anymore

Could you stand to be a breath away

Can you feel the way your face distorts

Did you think that it could be this way

- Stomach It By Crywolf

Your upper lip twitched a little as your gaze darted right into your boyfriend's chestnut-coloured eyes. In a rather stark contrast to yours, Pelle's expression was indifferent whilst he stared back at you, face smeared with a now gray amalgamation of once black and white corpse paint.

"Sorry…" He muttered, his voice lacking the depth and sympathy to really sell his point.

"No…it's, it's okay, really. It makes no sense to pressure yourself when you're not in the mood, no." You shrugged your shoulders at him, very much meaning what you said whilst you still felt that massive rock of repeated disappointment settling down in your stomach.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer then…can I get you something?" Pelle shook his head lightly.

"No, but thanks. I think I should just go to sleep now." The Swede with the long blonde hair allowed himself to slump deeper down into the old, worn out sofa, crossing his arms in front of his chest and with that not just verbally but also physically blocking you out.

"Nighty then…" You mumbled, turning away from your boyfriend to hide just how hard you fought to keep your composure.

Neither the heavy leather jacket, the edgy metal studs and spikes all over nor your trusty Darkthrone shirt hugging your torso were able to shield you from the emotional hurt raging inside of you. It's been months since Pelle last touched or so much as kissed you on the mouth. You knew just fine that something wasn't alright with him, that he was going through an episode again and the last thing you intended on doing was putting any blame for that on him but fuck was it challenging you this time. It didn't go past you how the I love you's had become more and more scarce, how he turned his back to you at night whilst you stared at the ceiling hoping for the oncoming episode to wash over him in a few, swift weeks but his current black hole of depression was unlike anything before. You hardly recognised your boyfriend anymore and felt like nothing but an accessory to the whole band persona he'd put up to cover up how much he was actually hurting on the inside.

To not come off as a soft, little crybaby to everybody else, you stifled your breath and wiped the emerging gush of tears from your lower lash line as fast as you could before making your way out to the densely crowded yard again. Empty bottles of beer lined the way whilst partially smoked-up cigarettes laid scattered all over, the heavy smell of a raging bonfire filled the crisp night breeze. Whilst almost violently looking to the ground to avoid anybody seeing you being about to burst into tears, you rushed to one of the cooling boxes to grab a beer or preferably something stronger. A sense of recklessness washed through you as you dug a deeply green, still halfway full glass bottle from the cooler. Jägermeister would serve you just fine right now.

Armed with the strong booze, you went right back into the house, hiding yourself away from all the action to simply get drunk in peace and solitude.

"Ugh…" Your whole body quivered as the herbal liquor shot down your throat, drenching your mouth in its bitter taste.

Right after the sensation eased up a little, you chased the first swig with a second, deeper one, the alcohol burning its way through your stomach before you'd even reached the corner of the house that could be described as a guest room to slump down on an array of dusty mattresses. With the intense warmth of heavy liquor washing through your body, you curled yourself up, shoving an old pillow underneath your head and before you really realized it, vagrant, quiet tears trickled from the corners of your eyes, pooling at the tear duct to eventually swap over the bridge of your nose. If you were honest with yourself, you felt sick of it, sick of being ignored and pushed away but at the same time you just couldn't bring yourself to point the finger at Per. He simply didn't choose this way of being and feeling yet it felt like he wasn't even trying anymore…which, again, would just be another symptom. You sighed in defeat before treating yourself to another numbing mouthful of booze.

Allowing the tears to just run down your face at their very own pace, you simply wanted to get drunk as fast as possible but even that wouldn't be granted to you, a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door pulling you from your thoughts.

"Huh?" You muttered, sitting up straight again and wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

"Hey…are you okay?" The familiar voice belonging to Øystein asked.

His head peaked through the open door, a messy bunch of black hair framing his face in wavy strands.

"Saw you rushing through the yard and thought checking up on you wouldn't hurt…" He slid his lean statue through the small opening, stepping towards you before crouching down to meet your gaze.

"See? That's part of the problem…you, you care and Pelle just…he just sits there." The words blubbered out of you in an uncontrolled rush accompanied by a new surge of hot tears.

"Hey now…", Euronymous quickly sat down, tucking the frizzy hair behind his ears, "What's going on, hm?"

"I'm so sick of this shit, Øystein… I can't help him, I can't fix him and he just pushes me away time and time again. I'm so done with this bullshit." It practically gushed out of your mouth in a poorly choked-back wail.

"There's a whole horde of people out there, Euro, yet I feel so terribly fucking lonely all the time. Everybody's cheering for Mayhem and for Dead, going on about how fucking cool and true he is for what he's doing to himself on stage but you know what?", You tried to stifle your shaky breaths, "It's not cool. None of it. It's actually fucking terrifying…and it's me who's got to stitch him back to gether every damn time."

With every one of your words, Øystein's eyes widened a little more, partly in understanding about just how much his friend was dragging you through but also in plain sympathy for you.

"Come'ere, yeah? C'mon…if it helps you can squeeze me as hard as you want to, okay?" Euronymous spread both his arms, inviting you in for a tight hug.

Not wasting a second thought on it, you leaned in, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders to squeeze and press as tightly as you could.

"There you go…that's it, right there." Euronymous encouraged you, the palms of his broad hands resting at the back of your head to soothe you with gentle pets and strokes.

"I wish I could help you but none of us really gets through to him anymore…I'm so sorry." Øystein sighed into the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose almost touching the cold, black leather of your jacket.

"I don't even know what's going on with him anymore. Everything is just so terribly wrong and I don't know how much longer I can do this shit, Euro, I really don't." You sniffled, inevitably having the vastly different scent of Euronymous right in front of you sneaking up into your nostrils.

Unlike Pelle, he smelled like stale cigarette smoke, cheap aftershave and beer…maybe not exactly a crowd pleaser but you found comfort in it.

"It's okay. I don't judge you." He whispered to you in a soft tone and it threatened to break you apart from the inside.

"Thank you…", You croaked into his hair, your voice getting weaker with every letter, "I feel so shitty for thinking about it like that but…but I'm so goddamn tired. I-...I just wanna feel loved again."

"To remind you…there's a whole horde of people out there who love you." He tried to cheer you up but ultimately missed the point.

"Not…not like that. Ugh, I sound stupid…" You felt the need to take the words straight back and to just go with Øystein's attempt of calming you.

"No, you don't, seriously.", Euronymous led his fingers to get lost in your hair, fingertips softly stroking across your scalp down to the nape of your neck, "I can't imagine how you came up with enough energy to stay this long in the first place. We both know it's not his fault, neither is it yours or mine but we've all been watching you breaking away because of him. You're not smiling anymore, not screaming your lungs out at the gigs, you're barely even here anymore…he's eating you up."

"I can't just leave, Øystein…" You gradually loosened your death grip around his torso to lean back, your face wet with slowly subsiding tears.

"I know…all I'm saying is that it might be time to think about yourself a little more. It won't help anybody if you get lost in his chaos, too." Before you could raise your own hand to wipe the sleeve of your jacket across your face, Euronymous was already on it, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Whilst taking a deep breath to steady yourself a bit more, the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. You followed how he slightly grinded his teeth together, jaws clenching, withholding something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Øystein?" You furrowed your brows a little, the feeling of something being violently off ebbing through your chest.

"I'm sorry…" That's all he offered to you before cupping your face with the full length of his palm and leaning in to press an anything but timid kiss to your trembling lips.

A part of you, the voice of reason within, practically screamed at you to pull away, to scurry back and to let this go down as nothing but an awkward, boozy, little slip-up, but you didn't move by just an inch as the pungent taste of smoked cigarettes and cheap beer swept into your mouth alongside Euronymous' daring tongue. You simply let it happen, allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and intoxicate you with the dangerously addictive feeling of being wanted, desired by someone.

"Fuck…" You groaned into the nearly bruising kiss, hands reaching out to claw at his utterly worn out Venom shirt to pull him closer to you.

Catching the notion that he had dared to make the right move at the right time, Øystein's palm left your face, both hands roaming over your back down to your ass to simply scoop you into his lap, your legs wrapping themselves around the cold of his bullet-shell belt as the hem of your washed-out, gray denim skirt rode up generously over your fishnet-stocking covered thighs.

"I got you…just hold on to me." Euronymous muttered, trying to catch his breath a little whilst his fingers dug themselves into the curve of your behind, causing you to whine out as you arched your hips impossibly close towards his crotch.

The aching need to feel just something again practically pulsed through every nerve ending and every muscle, pulling you into his tight grasp and for your hands to slip under the soft fabric of his shirt, skin against skin leaving you to crave more. Whilst one of his hands left it's place cupping your ass to hurry down between your bodies, awkwardly fumbling with the buckle of his belt before almost violently pulling down the zipper, a short but heavy pang of guilt jolted through your ribcage, nearly causing you to flinch on the spot. Nothing about this situation at hand was right or somehow, in some crooked way, justifiable to you and yet you made not a single move to stop any of it from happening. You didn’t grasp for Øystein's hand as it hushed from his unzipped pants amidst your legs, the sound of your tights tearing and ripping thundering in your ears, right before curious fingertips brushed over thin lace panties, no. The only reaction it pulled from your body was a needy moan.

"Right there, yeah?" You heard the smirk in his tone without even needing to see it.

Nodding softly, you placed your mouth back onto his, teeth teasingly grazing over his bottom lip.

"Bet that feels even better, babe." At first you didn't know what struck you harder, the endearing pet name or Euronymous' fingers snaking past your slip, dipping right into your soaked folds to draw achingly slow circles around your entrance.

"Please…" You hummed into the kiss, your forehead leaning against his.

"Please, what?", He inquired, fingertips prodding and nudging against your cunt, "Want me to fill you up, no? Such a greedy little thing."

You choked back a whine as Øystein withdrew his hand from your slip to shove the fabric to the side, fingers freeing his rock-hard cock from the confines of his shorts right before thrusting into you with a precise rock of his hips against yours.

"Oh, fuck…" Your moan got lost in his mouth, the delicious feeling of being stretched out so harshly rippling through you.

"How long has it been, huh?" He pushed, drilling himself into you until it threatened to hurt.

"I dunno…four months, maybe five." You couldn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut, the burning heat of arousal and shame creeping into your face in equal parts.

"Yeesh, couldn't leave a girl like you untouched for that long." Euronymous huffed, his other hand steadying your posture with his palm flat against your back as he started rolling his hips, practically bouncing you on his cock.

With your entire body flush with the sensation of Øystein spearheading into you in a firm pace, the last bit of your coherent brain busy muffling and holding back desperate mewls and whimpers, you rendered completely oblivious to what was happening around you…unlike the black-haired guitarist. From the very corner of his eyes, Øystein's attention got pulled towards the semi-open door, the old, wooden floor in front of it creaking treacherously. Just by the way a well familiar pair of thoroughly worn out combat boots barely peaked across the lines of the door frame, he knew that the both of you had been caught right in the act but he didn't so much as even bother to stop from guiding you up and down his throbbing hard on.

"You at least got yourself off here and there, no?" You shook your head.

"Didn't feel right. I- I just hoped things would get back to normal…" You groaned, the sensation of Euronymous' cock stroking over that extra sensitive spot inside of you sending cold, little shivers down your spine.

"Oh, love, then I better make sure to give it to you better than Per ever could…lazy fucker." Øystein scoffed more to his friend and singer hiding next to the door frame than to you but you didn't take any notice of that, your senses way too busy with just keeping it together.

For a moment, Øystein felt actual and very real rage gushing through him. Anger towards his friend for being such an oblivious prick regarding the suffering and all-round neglect he was dragging you through. It was a terribly self-righteous emotion, that he knew for sure, however, he couldn't help himself but to let it fuel the way he rutted into you, burying himself as deep as possible inside of your wet pussy.

The rather morbid thing both of you failed to take notice of was what Dead was doing hidden away in the shadows of the hallway, the crushing humiliation not only going straight to his heart but to his awfully throbbing cock as well, the bitter-sweet masochistic rush leading him to palm himself through his trousers whilst biting down on his fist to not let just one singular sound escape from his twitching lips. The Swede was shamelessly jerking himself off to you getting railed by his closest friend.

"Gonna take good care of you, babe." Øystein groaned in a lust-riddled tone, both of his hands now closing down around your hips to hammer your form onto his cock with every jut and snap of his hips.

It had you bashfully nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the cigarette smoke soaked leather of his jacked cold against your cheek, whilst you still clawed at his sides underneath his shirt.

Your fingers dug into his skin as you felt your walls starting to flutter and contract around Øystein's hard on, the first crushing jolts of your pent-up orgasm rippling through your body, senses being sent into blissful overdrive.

"Good girl…fuck, pulling me in so hard now, huh?" Euronymous' voice cracked and eventually faltered just like the rolls of his lap against yours.

"Issok…", He talked you through your release, shoving himself balls deep into your spasming cunt before flooding your insides with white-hot ropes of his seed, a guttural groan ripping itself free from the depths of his lungs, "Just let yourself go. I gotchu."

The earth-shattering sensation of all the pent-up sexual desperation mixed in with shame and crushing guilt washing through your system had you biting down on his leather-clad shoulder, a fresh surge of tears threatening to swap over your lower lash line at any second.

"Aw, shit." A sore croak from outside the room led both of you to turn your heads so suddenly that it nearly gave you whiplash.

"The fuck?!" You shrieked out, practically jumping from Øystein's lap whilst he was equally busy with tucking himself back in and getting off the mattress.

"I got this!" Euronymous tried to calm you, awkwardly stumbling away from you before tearing the door open and vanishing into the dark hallway.

For a split second your overworked synapses tried to get a vague grasp on what was going down. Feet were hammering down stairs, noisy commotion erupted from inside the house before the sound of shattering glass and incomprehensible screaming and shouting filled the yard.

"Oh fuck no…" You huffed under your breath, wobbly legs nearly giving out as you tried to pull yourself from the mattress.

As soon as you stood upright again, you felt Øystein's load oozing out of you, soaking the flimsy fabric of your slip with every step you took. You dreaded the scenario that was unfolding outside because the yelling didn't seem to die down but much rather escalate further.

"You fucking traitor!" Pelle's raspy voice cut through the night air, hitting you as soon as you slid out the front door.

"Fucking traitor?!", Øystein spat right back whilst your eyes scanned the scenery anxiously, "You're the spineless loser, Per!"

"You fucked my girlfriend, Øystein!" Dead yelled and with his words you noticed Metallion and Jan Axel staring right at you, nothing but drunk confusion washing over their faces.

"And you pathetic fuck got off to it!" Euronymous had to duck down to dodge an empty beer bottle being sent his way.

"You what?!" You directed the question right at your boyfriend before you noticed a tell-tale damp and soaked-through spot right around his zipper.

"Yes, please tell her how you stood outside the room jerking off to your girl breaking down in front of me, Per!" Your bewildered stare rushed towards Øystein now.

"Huh? You…you saw him or what now?!?" The guitarist shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Jan Axel tried to intervene but both Per and Øystein shushed him almost simultaneously.

"You shut the fuck up!" Pelle sneered, looking like he was about ready to throw one of the plenty empty bottles of beer after his drummer too.

"No.", You huffed, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso to shield you from the creeping cold, "He actually got a point, because…what the hell?!"

"Pumpkin, I can explain, I promise." Per raised his hands in a soothing manner but you didn't feel like having any of it.

"Don't you dare sweet-talk me now, Pelle! You've been pushing me away for months but…you get off to, well, this?" You indirectly confirmed all that had been happening between Øystein and you.

"No. Just no. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck this shit. I'm not even remotely drunk enough to deal with this shitshow right now." To undoubtedly cement your point, you took a few swift steps toward Øystein who was looking at you with wide eyes as you fished for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, drawing one for yourself before deliberately putting it to your lips.

"Yes, I fucked Øystein.", You threw your hands into the air after lighting the cigarette, "Maybe I should've done that much sooner, who knows?"

The last sentence was solely aimed to hurt Per as much as he had hurt you.

"Fucking hell, I'm so sick of all this dysfunctional shit…", You just shook your head before heading back inside, "Better none of you disrupt the date I have with a piss-warm bottle of Jägermeister now or you fucking bet I'll cut your dick off!"

[entirelysein-e]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟғ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʏᴇs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴍʙ

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Requests: ☼ 𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 ☼ sfw only

[the-iceni-bitch]

Another request 🥴 “Hey, listen to me. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.” with Andy please?

Yes! Teddy bear Andy who just wants to take care of you is like crack for my anguish.

You were crying in your sleep again. Andy could hear your whimpering and feel you tossing and turning on his sleep, blinking slowly as he woke up and frowning as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead and cheeks.

“Baby…” he hushed you gently when you opened your eyes and sobbed immediately. “Aww honey, did you have a bad dream?”

“Yeah.” You sniffled and snuggled closer to him. “It was dark and scary and all I knew was that you weren’t there. I was all alone.”

“Fuck honey, it’s okay now, though.” Andy held your chin and tilted your face up to look at him. “Hey, listen to me. Nothing is going to hurt you. I’m always here for you, I promise.”

“I know.” You rested your head on his shoulder as you started to calm down, letting him rub your back and rub his cheek against your hair. “I know.”

He could always make you feel safe and cared for, even after such an upsetting dream. You felt yourself starting to drift off to sleep again, smiling a small smile to yourself as he started to hum a little tune to help you relax in his arms.

⁂❆❅ 𝒥𝑜𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝐵𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 ❅❆⁂

[kinardsevan]

Prompt: Buck finds out that Tommy is actually related to TK Strand.

(ahem. you asked for this.)

ETA: I have a serious problem with word skipping when reading if you can’t tell 🙃

He never intended to find out this kind of information. He done the 23&me on a whim after joking around with Eddie and Chim at work when Chim had randomly dropped into conversation “did you know I’m eight percent Scottish?” And of course they didn’t know, because how would that information have been freely available to him? How would he ever have known? 

And then Chimney had gifted him and Eddie each tests for Christmas, and at the time, Evan had figured ‘why the hell not?’ So he’d done the whole thing. Spit in the tube, sent it in, figured maybe he could at least find out if he had to worry about cancer in his future due to the Daniel of it all. 

“You sure you want to mess around in that,” Tommy had asked him over dinner one night. “I’ve heard about people finding out about murderers in their family.” 

But he’d been so sure. So sure there would be nothing interesting that would come back. There was nothing fun about the Buckley’s. His parents are teachers. His grandparents died of natural causes. What’s the worst that could happen? 

Turns out it was a lot. 

. . .

He’s on the stairs when Tommy comes into the loft, duffel still hitched up on his shoulder. They’re supposed to be spending the weekend together, but Evan’s not really sure what’s going to happen after the last twenty-four hours. 

“Hey,” Tommy murmurs softly, letting his bag hit the floor as he walks over to the stairs. He perches down at the base of them, resting a hand on Evan’s knee and ilfting the other to his face, brushing away the tears there. 

“Hi,” Evan rasps back, still staring at his hands folded in front of him. 

“Eddie said Bobby sent you home,” Tommy murmurs. Evan nods. 

“What’s going on,” Tommy asks softly, concern laced around his words. 

Evan’s eyebrows are knit so tightly together they could one into one another and the line his mouth is pressed into could crack peanut shells. 

“I-…My…Um, Maddie…” The words keep dying in his throat before he can get them out, and it just keeps making the knot in his chest tighter. 

“Is something wrong with Maddie?” 

Evan’s head lifts then, meeting Tommy’s eyes. There are conflicting emotions in the blonde’s sapphire eyes. Sorrow. A little bit of anger. Something else Tommy can’t place. Loss? 

“No,” he replies rapidly. “No, she’s fine. B-but she’s… she’s not-…”  Evan shakes his head at himself and reaches for his phone next to him on the stairs. He unlocks it, swipes at it a few times, and then passes it to Tommy. Tommy stares at him for a moment longer than necessary, and then looks down at the screen. 

“Family tree,” Tommy comments, moving the screen around to see the connections. It takes him a moment, but then suddenly he’s pulling the phone closer to his face, moving things around. “Where’s Maddie and Chim?” 

Evan lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, pressing the back of a hand to his nose as he sniffles. Tommy just keeps staring at the phone. 

“This has to be wrong,” Tommy comments. He sets the phone down and looks back up at Evan, cupping his face. 

“It’s not,” Evan rasps, blinking more tears down. “I got the first set of results weeks ago. Told them the same thing. They had me send a fresh sample and retest.” 

Tommy deadpans at him, eyes widened. “Evan.” 

“They’re not my family, Tommy.” His voice is so small and broken that it breaks Tommy, and he can’t stop the tears in his own eyes. “I never fit in because I didn’t belong to them. I’ve never belonged to them.” 

Tommy slides his hands off Evan’s face then and stands, pulling the blonde up with him as he does and into a tight hug. Evan burrows his face into Tommy’s neck, crying softly into the fabric of his maroon henley.

“I’m so sorry, Evan,” he murmurs to him, hand to the back of his head and lips to his temple. For all the jokes everyone has made in recent weeks after Chimney had gifted his friends the test, nobody, not even Tommy, could’ve forseen this outcome. 

They stand in that position for a while, letting Evan process. When it seems like he’s calmed enough, Tommy pulls him over to the table and they sit down next to each other. Tommy pulls Evan’s chair right up next to his, stretching his arm across the back of it and resting his free hand in the blonde’s on the table. 

“There’s nothing that says you have to do anything with any of this information,” Tommy tells him. “Maddie is still your sister. Your family is still your family.” 

Evan sniffles, leans over and rests his head on Tommy’s shoulder. 

“I know them,” he murmurs a moment later, his voice cracking. “The-…my biological family. I know them.” 

“You do,” Tommy asks. He tries not to sound overly curious in case Evan doesn’t want to give more information. 

Evan nods, lifting his head back up. “You remember my friends who came through a few weeks ago to visit?We went to dinner with them?” 

Tommy’s brow furrows as he tries to recall what Evan is specifically referring to. When it clicks, he looks back over at him. 

“TK and Carlos?” 

Evan nods. “H-his parents-… o-or I guess….” He pauses, shakes his head. “Owen and Gwyn had a kid their first year of college. Me, apparently.” 

Tommy frowns at him. 

“They placed the baby for adoption,” Evan continues. “With the option for the baby- me… to seek them out if I decided to once I was an adult.” He pauses for a moment, scowling at his table. “I don’t know h-how, but m-my parents...they tried to have a savior sibling, for Daniel. And it didn’t work. But they knew people through the hospital, a-and when I was born…” His voice trails off, his expression shifting to one of disgust. He looks up at Tommy. “I was technically a match to Daniel. But the graft didn’t take.” 

Tommy narrows his eyes at him, the weight of what Evan’s telling him sinking in. “They adopted you so they could have your bone marrow?” 

Evan lets out disgusted laugh, shaking his head. 

“And then when I couldn’t save the son they actually wanted, they acted like I wasn’t their problem,” he mutters. “And they never told me. “ 

Tommy huffs. He lifts his arm from behind Evan and pulls him in, presses his lips to the blonde’s birthmark. 

“I know it’s not a consolation, but you can still know them,” he states softly. “You already have TK in your life.” 

Evan shakes head, pulling away and looking at Tommy again, more tears in his eyes. 

“Gwyn is dead,” he tells him. “She’s been gone for two years now.” 

Tommy’s head tilts at the information, sorrow and compassion crossing his face. TK also had mentioned when they met that his father was a cancer survivor, and the realization of both of those factors is almost gut-wrenching. 

“I don’t have the right answers for this,” he admits softly. “But I can be here with you through it, whatever you want to do.” 

Evan nods. He leans back over, resting his head on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy presses his face into Evan’s hair, leaving quick, gentle kisses there as his fingers massage gently on his scalp. 

“You’re the only person who’s ever loved me just as I am,” Evan murmurs, snuffling back a small whimper. “The only one who’s ever decided I was enough this way.” 

Tommy gulps down past the knot in his throat as he fists a handful of Evan’s hair, holding him close a beat longer. 

“Never gonna stop,” he rasps after a moment. “This version of you is enough, no matter what anyone else thinks.” 

[thedastrash]

haha I love you mentioning how Cassandra is constantly talking about Varric and what he thinks of her because I am obsessed, OBSESSED with how they literally cannot shut up about each other, you can barely get through a conversation with either of them without the other one coming up somehow, I swear those two have a severe case of Mentionitis for each other

Hot hell YES they are obsessed with each other it’s unreal! The thing that hit me most recently was a line she says chatting with the inquisitor in trespasser. She just out of the blue said “I’m an optimist. Ask Varric” girl WHAT??? (I love her)

Y’all are spending a lot of time with the other person on the tip of your tongue! It’s destroying my shipping heart! I can’t take it!

I need to like read through all their lines and pull out all the references to each other. they keep randomly bringing each other up - her talking about what he might say in response to what she’s said - or him saying what she might think about his character… there are so many assumptions between them and I want to make them sit down and untangle that messy ball of yarn so badly.

[joeyalohadream]

I was rereading the cooler fic last night (for the 1000th time) and i was wondering if there was a line or a few lines u could share from part 2 and how its coming along! (No intention to put pressure or anything at all) I adore ur writing 🩷🩷🩷🩷

Hi, anon!

Endlessly flattered that you've re-read it so many times!

Small WIP update: I threw out my back at work yesterday and am laid up for a few days. I'm feeling motivated and hoping to use the fact that I can't move much as an opportunity to write a lot!

But here's a small snippet from Part Two to wet your whistle while you wait for me to finish:

“What is it?” He watches as Gale picks at the cuticles around his thumbnail. It strikes him suddenly that the grime under Gale’s nails has been there for a while. It was there when he’d held those trembling fingers in his own the night before, which means it had probably been there since he’d been in isolation. Gale, who has been meticulous about cleanliness, about order and neatness since the moment he met him, is looking down at his dirty hands and he’s not bothered by them. The subtle changes Bucky has been noticing in his demeanor over the last twenty-four hours are starting to pile up.  He’d poked fun at Gale about his almost obsessive need to be hygienic a few months into their confinement. In one of his darker moments, it had made him angry watching Gale act as if such an unimportant thing mattered when they were suspended in such a meaningless state of inactivity. It hurts to remember the way Gale had shrugged off his harsh admonishment of this aspect of his character, not pushing back, just accepting the new normalcy of Bucky being subtly cruel. Right now, he wishes he could go back in time to their moment in the washroom and scrub the dirt from under each of Gale’s fingernails. Wishes he could help give him back something that seems to have been stolen from him in the recent weeks. He takes advantage of their solitude and reaches over the table to grasp Gale’s cold fingers, halting the abuse he had been dolling out on his delicate skin. “Talk to me, Buck. Something’s bothering you.” Red-rimmed blue eyes meet his and a small smirk plays over his lips. “A lots bothering me today, Bucky.” He gives the fingers in his a slight squeeze and the man they belong to a small smile. Between the cold and the hunger and the pain and the sickness, he knows that. But he also knows that there is something else, something maybe he could fix faster than those other ailments. “It’s stupid.” Gale sighs and shakes his head. “Let me be the judge of that.” “It’s selfish,” Gale shifts his gaze to their hands and hunches down in his chair. Bucky frowns at the top of his head. “You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, Buck.” Bucky wishes he did sometimes, because maybe then Gale wouldn’t feel the need to sacrifice his well-being so often. Gale stays silent but Bucky can see his jaw working, knows he’s contemplating his words and deciding whether or not he’s going to share them. “Please,” he leans over the table at the same time he pulls on Gale’s hand, lets his lips brush the cold skin over his knuckles. He smiles again, keeping his face open when those beautiful eyes rise to meet his again. “Before I went in,” Gale starts, voice low, pained. “You weren’t doing well.” Bucky winces internally at the understatement but stays silent, willing Gale to continue. “I tried to give you space and keep you close at the same time. But the only times I felt like you were really with me were when we were in our bunk. And some nights not even then.” Guilt is a vice around Bucky’s heart at the hurt in Gale’s voice. “You wouldn’t talk to the guys or help out or even get outta bed somedays.” Gale pauses, takes a shuddering breath that turns into a harsh cough that he turns into his own shoulder. Bucky looks on, helpless and feeling raw. It takes a minute for Gale to gain his composure and catch his breath enough to continue. “But now, you’re like the old you,” Gale clears his throat and looks back down at the table. “The way the guys were talking to you last night and this morning, I can tell you’ve been like that for a while now.” Bucky thinks back to the slow crawl he made through the metaphorical muck in his mind to get back to himself, to be what the men needed, to be what Gale would need when he finally came back to him. “It’s like I went away, and you got better,” Gale practically grinds the words out, voice whisper soft and Bucky’s heart breaks.

[thedamnedlamb]

May we know some wholesome fluff about leshy and the lamb

I now have stable WiFi connection

Previous post has most wholesome Leshy lamb content

But I’ll add on more here for the Leshy plush

Leshy made the plush of himself when he and the Lamb were still small and before Hekets and Kallamars death. So when their relationship was still rather new and they both were new to being crown bearers.

Big part of this AU! Leshy is a good bit younger in this au. Being a new crown bearer right when he gets his eye ripped out by Narinder. New crown bearers take a long time to age and get tall like the canon bishops. So Leshy and the Lamb are closer in age as crown bearers than Leshy is with his siblings. A thousand years is a short amount of time in the eyes of a God. So Leshy had little to nothing to do with the Lamb species genocide in this AU, he was busy being a angsty god child

Leshy’s first loyal disciple is his canonical witness when killed in game (can’t remember name off the top of my head), who basically raises Leshy while the other Bishops go insane over a prophecy

[darkserenity24]

letting you know we all miss you!! hope your move & job transition is going smoothly ❤️❤️ cant wait for your updates again, and i hope you're staying healthy!!

Aw thank you! Move went extremely well. My husband, cat, and I drove 2600 miles across the US from one state too another, and we all made it in one piece thankfully.

Our parents helped us set up our new place and now we’re just trying to get back to our normal daily routines. The 3 hour time zone difference had been tough on us but we’re getting more acclimated each day.

Good news is I started back writing this week! So updates should be coming shortly. I’m not rushing them out because I actually want them to be good (at least to my standards lol). Very excited to share with you guys!

[ionlypostmymeemocs]

Is this real

Yes

[ozarkthedog]

Sometimes I wish there was a third Miller Brother so that I can truly experience what it feels like to be airtight 😔💔

This is my petition for Oscar Isaac to be the third Miller Brother! 🫡

he’d fit right in, literally. 😌

fuck, I can see it now, the three of them flanking you from all sides. you can’t turn without meeting a pair of wild eyes and devious grins as they slowly stalk closer until you are completely surrounded.

multiple hands grab at your limbs and curves like they’re playing a vile game of tug of war. they work in tandem, easily manipulating your mind and body to their liking. the only time you hear them speak is when they murmur vulgar descriptions of what they plan to do with you.

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Something completely unhinged with Euronymous please 😭 like the reader riding and overstimulating him until he's crying and his orgasms are dry 🥺

Safe a horse, ride your black metal boytoy 🤠

Deathcrush

Summary: Looks like Euronymous gets really sensitive when overstimulated.

Pairing: Euronymous x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Bondage, Unprotected P In V, Overstimulation, Crying, Begging, Affectionate Degradation, Wax Play, Forced Orgasm, Implied Aftercare

A/N: Time to piss off some elitist, gatekeeping edgelords 😌🫡

Disclaimer - I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not writing about the real Øystein Aarseth. I am writing about the fictionalized version of Euronymus portrayed by sexyman Rory Culkin, please and thank you!

Tagging the gender neutral hoe squad:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @alalalaaallaaalaaa @star-milk-tea @milsthouqhts @roryculkinsbf @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl

"Ma'am, stop, please! Please, I'm begging you! I can't…", Euronymous whimpered into the candle-lit bedroom, "It's too much, please!"

His wrists pushed and pulled against black rope that you had used to carefully tie him up against the head of the bed frame.

The rope most certainly added a nice, aesthetic touch to the view in front of you. His pale, nearly chalk-white skin against the black forming a contrast pleasing to the eye as you sat on top of him, his achingly hard cock buried deep inside of you as you rolled your hips against his crotch.

"Oh, I think you can take more, sweety.", You didn't stop in your movements as you smiled down on him, droplets of sweat covering his forehead and his eyes practically pleading unto you, "You've been so good for me so far and you don't want to upset me, do you, Euronymous?"

"No, of course not, Ma'am. But.." His raspy voice broke as you clenched down around him, making him twitch involuntarily.

"But what, baby, huh? Use your words." You teased with slightly arched brows.

"It's too much, please. I just need a little break, pretty please!" He pressed out of trembling lips.

"A little break, hm? Is my little fucktoy feeling sore? Worn out from Ma'am riding you all night long, yeah?" For a few thrusts, you picked up the pace, waiting for him to answer.

"Yeah, yes, fuck, Ma'am, please! Just a little break!" He mewled, almost unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Okay, granted. A small, little break you shall have…" With that you halted in your movements, a devilish grin spreading across your face, because you'd certainly give him his break but only on your conditions.

"Thank you, thank you so much, Ma'am." Euronymous gasped, his chest heaving up and down with every raggedy breath.

"Of course, baby. What kind of Ma'am would I be if I wasn't listening and taking good care of my property, hm?", You let the palm of your hand wander over his defined chest, nails scratching softly, playfully, "You know I really like your chest, don't you? It's so pretty but I think we could make it even more beautiful."

Withholding a laugh, you watched his brows furrow in confusion, his facial expression turning from sheer overstimulation to questioning.

"C-could we?" He looked at you with widening eyes.

"Oh, yeah! Let's just take this candle right here…", You leaned to the side to grab one of the many candles from the nightstand and let it hoover above his chest, "And let's add some color to that nice, soft skin of yours."

With a carefully watching gaze, you tilted the red candle gently until little drops of melted wax tripped over the edge right onto his chest.

Euronymous hissed upon impact, the liquid turning back into a solid on his skin.

"Oh, that's pretty! You know, I'm feeling a bit inspired right now…" You grinned to yourself as you slowly started to drip the wax in the rough shape of an upside down pentagram onto him.

With each droplet he squirmed and squealed underneath you, actively moving himself inside of you again.

"That's not fair…" Euronymous whined, his eyes fluttering shut as the pain from the hot wax and the ongoing overstimulation triggered every nerve to fire.

"You're moving now, baby. I'm just giving you that break you wanted to have so bad." Your tone saccharine-sweet as you talked down on him like that.

"No, no, you're making me!" He sniffled, the first hot, few tears of helplessness gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, no, I don't think so. That's your needy cock thrusting into me right now and deep down you know that you just need to cum for me again." You taunted him in a soft tone.

"N-no!", His voice was sore and shaky as you continued to drip wax onto his chest, "I can't…I can't cum again, please."

"Nuh-uh.", You shushed, "We both know that you can, babe."

After you finished your burgundy red work of art on his body, you placed the candle back onto the nightstand. Resting on top of him, your cunt provocatively clenching and throbbing around his cock, you attentively watched heavy tears roll down the sides of his face as an avalanche of gibberish spilled out of his mouth.

"No, no, please, no. I can't do this, no, please. I'm so sore, Ma'am, please. I can't cum again, please. There's nothing left, I-" He sobbed under his breath as you picked up the pace again, rolling and rocking your hips against his lap, his cock thrusting into you in languid strokes.

"But why are you so fucking hard for me then, huh? Filling me up like the good fucktoy you are." It left your mouth in a low moan, as the tip of his cock stroked and nudged against that sensitive spot inside of you.

"I don't know, I don't…I can't…" Euronymous' voice cracked again, his entire body turning rigid beneath you.

"See? Just let go…cum for me, babe." You encouraged, trying to push him over the threshold for the 4th time tonight.

"It feels so good but hurts…" He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth in a whiny groan, surrendering to you milking him dry yet again.

With a guttural cry, he arched his back from the mattress, his cock pulsing and twitching inside of you as you pulled another orgasm from him. Moaning and whining, he squirmed, pushing against the restraints until you slowly stopped moving.

"I'm so proud of you, babe.", You leaned down to press a long kiss to his quivering lips "I love my perfect, little fucktoy so much. I'm going to untie you now and you'll get all the praise you deserve!"

[sadsoftserve]

OMG COOKIES??????? NOT EE RELATED???? IM IN OTHER FANDOMS AND HAVE OCS FOR THEM TOO?????????? (please ask abt her, her name is Chocolate Chunk :))

[the-iceni-bitch]

Hi Nat! May I have “who told you I needed fixing and what made you believe them?” with Ari maybe?

Also, all the hugs and good vibes for a better 2024 😚

15. “Who told you I needed fixing and what made you believe them?”

I don’t know why but I love this one for Ari so much.

Ari felt like he was going to scream, and he could tell you were just as angry as he was. This was exceptionally ridiculous. You two had fought before but for some reason today had pushed the both of you over the edge.

It had started out just fine. You had gotten home from work and smiled when you saw him making you dinner. The smiles and warm kisses hello were normal, and so was Ari asking how your day was. But then you shrugged him off, again, when he noticed the strain in your voice and the way you sighed when you told him it was fine. He knew it wasn’t, he could read you like a fucking book. Which you both loved and hated at the same time. You couldn’t make yourself open up to him for some reason, though, and it was starting to piss him off.

“I don’t understand what’s so damn hard about just telling me when there’s something going on with you.” Ari ran his hand through his as he tried to keep himself at least relatively calm. “I am not asking that much, just for the woman I’m in love with to talk to me!”

“I am talking to you!” You didn’t care so much about staying calm, gripping the edge of the counter so hard it hurt while you yelled in frustration. “I’m so sorry I’m not enough for you! Who the fuck told you I needed fixing and what made you believe them?”

“I’m not trying to fix you, goddamn it!” Now he really was mad, you always accused him of this type of shit whenever he tried to get you to open up when all he wanted was to know you. “I want to be able to help you if you need it. I want our relationship to grow and become deeper and more meaningful. If you just want a feel good dopamine boost, then fucking fine, but at least tell me that instead of acting like you want something important. Do you even know what you want?”

You just tilted your head back and screamed then stormed out the door. You didn’t need this shit. You didn’t need someone to tell you what you wanted. You were fine by yourself, the tears that fell from your eyes and the pain in your chest didn’t mean anything, Ari didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.

“God, that is just fine!” Ari was crying too now, tossing the food into the sink and punching the wall as he sucked down painful breaths. “I’ll just be here waiting like a fucking moron if you ever decide you want to have a real, grownup relationship!”

⁂❆❅ 𝒥𝑜𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝐵𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 ❅❆⁂

[sweeterthanthis]

what about this winter soldier finding a lost little bunny in the woods, taking her home to his hideout and keeping her safe and warm there whether she likes it or not 🥰

Ooooh, I love this.

You thought the snow was blistering and overbearing but it was nothing compared to the heat from the strong arms tightly wrapped around your body.

"Can you- can you at least take off the mask?" You ask, your teeth no longer chattering from the icy temperature wisping in through the crack beneath the bolted door. "I was doing just fine without you, you know."

You weren't. By now you'd likely have frozen to death. Or been eaten by some starving predator. Although you'd seemingly ended up in the arms of a starving predator so you're still fucked, aren't you?

"If you're not gonna take the mask off, can you talk? What's your name?" The wind batters against the side of the building, your body shivering in his possessive hold. Why won't he let you go? If he was going to kill you wouldn't he have done it already? "Fuck!"

The rough material of his jacket scratches against your cheek when you bury your face against his chest, hiding from the severe weather and shivering in fear from the hale stones that beat down on the roof. It didn't look very sturdy. In fact, you were certain any minute that it would cave in and you'd both be exposed to the elements.

"I'm scared."

"Me too." Your heart forgets to beat for a split second, his gruff, quiet whisper against your ear. "I don't like the cold."

(Sorry, idk what that was just got a little soft there for a moment lol. Thank you!💗)

[velveteenshadow]

What are your opinions on a potential Edward Nygma/Adrien Agreste

I ask, because I know both characters are very dear to you and I wonder if you've ever thought about it (if you have, what are your headcanons, and if you haven't, what are your thoughts that this gives you? - Percy

Ooo great question!

Okay, so Edward and Adrien are so absolutely near and dear to my heart. Gotham’s version of the Riddler captured me. That’s the version that I write based off of whenever I write the character.

As for the two characters being shipped, I’d be willing to try writing it. It’d take a bit to wrap my brain around but I think there’s potential.

The relationship I like to do between Adrien and Edward is actually Adoptive Parent Ed. It’s my version of ‘Marinette gets it in the care of Harley, Ivy and/Selina’. I feel like Edward would be so fascinated with the miraculous and would want to help Adrien out (cause Oswald would make him).

I also really like the idea of Adrien/Edward being the ultimate duo to rival Batman/Catwoman. There’s just something about it. (Perfect set up for a Cat fight)